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Poem

They shot a boy the other day
not far from where I live
killed him in cold blood
they wonder what he feared
they say his hands were in the air
reaching for the sky
but that never stopped the policeman 
from making his bullets fly
seven shots rang out 
then there was a pause
and two more shot were made
as if there were not any laws
I went to the neighborhood
just a short walk away
and I joined all the protesters
while the world watched and weighed
some were looking for attention
from the whole wide world 
and did I forget to mention
the want to be Martins and Malcolm's
opportunist who've waited all their lives
for that white man to kill that poor black boy
but join the people, I must
follow their parade, I must
play the role, I must
because it matters
we marched and so did the white opportunist
who were there enjoying the cameras
one has to wonder how many Martins and Malcolm's
were there really?

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